


Brothers, Betrothals, and Broken Things

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Arranged Marriage, Bingo, Dark, F/M, Gen, Mistaken Identity, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucia is betrothed to a Lannister, a match which will save her House - except, to her horror, it isn't to Jaime, the object of her desire, but Tyrion. Little does she realise this humiliation could be a blessing in disguise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers, Betrothals, and Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

> For the dark bingo prompt 'mistaken identity
> 
> Warnings: mentions of past attempted non-con, attempted incest, disfigurement, suicidal ideation
> 
> Thanks to pristineungift, for not only suggesting the plotline, but for a sterling beta job, and for providing the wonderfully descriptive title.

"He's blond, but they're all blond," Jarrett said. It was one of the few things he said about her intended and he repeated it often.

Lucia smoothed down her skirts anxiously and adjusted the hated but necessary shawl about her throat and chest. It was a great honour to have a Lannister visit them, and an unimaginable honour to be betrothed to one. Her union with Jaime Lannister would be the making of their House, once noble, but now fallen on hard times.

"Quite the reputation with the ladies," her other brother, Sven, said. They never said his name but they always spoke of her intended in glowing terms.

Lucia swallowed hard. She'd heard the stories of noble Kingslayer. She heard the carriage approach and lowered her gaze demurely to the cobblestones, hoping to make a good impression.

The carriage pulled to a halt. Queen Cersei was the first to step down from the carriage, sharp eyes assessing their home – not nearly so grand as hers must be, Lucia knew. Jaime Lannister followed close behind. And a third, the dwarf, followed.

Jarrett, as the eldest, was overseeing the introductions. Lucia gazed from beneath her lashes at the tall and handsome Jaime, feeling her pulse quicken.

"We did not want to disrupt the children's studies," Cersei said, "by bringing them on such a short visit. Rest assured the entire family will be present at the nuptials."

Yet they'd brought along Tyrion Lannister, Lucia thought. Of all the shame and scandal her family had seen, it had never included the birthing of a half-man. She felt ashamed at herself for the thought; no-one could help the circumstances of their birth.

"This is my brother, Sven," Jarrett said, "and our dear sister, Lucia."

Lucia finally lifted her head, tucking one wavy strand of dark hair behind her ear. She curtsied but kept silent. Demure, her brothers had told her, over and over. A man wanted a wife who was submissive and silent. She must not ruin this chance to save their House by any display of emotion.

Cersei gazed at her and Lucia felt as though the queen were seeing through her to her very soul. It took everything she had not to wilt.

"Hello, Lucia," Cersei said politely. "We are very glad to meet the woman who will be joining the noble Lannister family."

Tyrion made a noise of contempt and Cersei shot him a sharp glance.

"This is my brother, Jaime," Cersei said, "and of course, the man who will be your husband, Tryion Lannister."

All the blood drained from Lucia's face and she swayed on the spot. Jaime, she was marrying Jaime, there had to be some mistake.

Sven gave a snort of laughter. Cersei looked momentarily confused, then tipped her head.

"Is something amusing?" she asked in a voice that could cut through steel.

"No," Jarrett said hastily. "Of course not."

Sven, who'd never been the brightest man even before all those falls from his horse, gave Lucia a shove that made her stumble forwards. "Oh, you didn't think you would marry _Jaime_ Lannister, did you? Damag-"

"Sven," Jarrett barked and Sven coughed and busied himself counting the cobbles. 

"Please, forgive my brother," Jarrett said. "He's –"

Cersei held up one hand in a commanding manner that could halt a battalion. "Has your sister been misled?"

Jarrett shook his head. "No, your highness, I think she has become confused. Girlish fantasies…"

He trailed off as Cersei's eyes narrowed. There was a storm brewing and even Jarrett knew when to take shelter.

"Oh, I see," Tyrion said brightly in the sudden, strained silence. "Very funny. This is a cruel joke, and I am the punch line."

Jarrett shook his head fiercely until it seemed it would fly from his shoulders. "Not at all, my Lord."

Lucia let out a strangled sob and fled from the courtyard.

"Something I said?" she heard Tyrion ask as she headed up the stairs and into her room. She closed the heavy wooden door behind her and sank to the floor, weeping.

* * *

Cersei paced the rooms allocated to her for their stay, her nose wrinkling at the threadbare bedspread and faint smell of damp.

"I knew they were incompetent fools with no idea what value this ramshackle heap and its lands holds," she fumed. "But such cruelty in misleading their sister? They mock us as well as her."

Jaime shrugged. Cruel or kind, just or unjust, it was all much the same in the end as far as he was concerned. "You want to call off the betrothal?" he asked, feeling Cersei expected a response.

Cersei shook her head. "No. I would see them destroyed and everything of value they own put to our advantage."

Jaime nodded in agreement, pleased.

"And," Cersei said, a sly smile spreading across her features, "there is no better way to destroy something than from within."

* * *

Lucia gazed down from her window. The fall would kill her, almost certainly.

Almost was not good enough.

But it would be simpler to throw herself from the window than to slice open her own flesh with the dagger she clutched in one trembling hand. 

But simple had never been her destiny. Pain was her constant companion.

She sat on the ottoman and tugged back her sleeve, wondering where best to make the cut.

There was a knock on the door. Lucia froze. Her lips moved to ask who it was, but no sound would come out.

"Lucia? May I speak with you?"

Tyrion. How could she face him after her performance in the courtyard? He was not the tall knight she had lusted after, but he didn’t deserve to be spurned in such a manner.

"Lucia?” Tyrion called again, his voice closer now. “Oh, how clumsy of me, the door just flew open," he said as he walked into view.

Lucia thrust the blade she still held into the folds of her skirts, but Tyrion’s quick eyes caught her movements, his face turning to stone. She lowered her gaze once more.

"Am I truly so repulsive that you would rather end your life than be wedded to me?" he asked. There was none of the anger she expected in his tone. A touch of bitterness, perhaps, but mostly Lucia heard resignation. As if he'd come to terms with his terrible lot in life in a way she never had. She'd kept her foolish dreams alive, the bright flame of them stoked by the thought of being in the arms of Jaime Lannister.

Lucia shook her head. "No, my lord," she managed to say.

"Then look at me when you speak," Tyrion commanded, the edge of authority in his voice making her lift her chin without conscious volition. "Better. Now, tell me your tale, Lucia. I like stories very much and I would hear yours, for I am certain it will be more truthful and instructive than anything that comes out of either of your brother's mouths."

Lucia swallowed. "Where would you like me to start, my Lord?"

"At the end, and work backwards," Tyrion said. "Why you ran from me, if not for my countenance. You believed you were to marry Jaime?"

She nodded, winding her hands into her skirts in embarrassment. "My brothers told me they had a match for me far better than I deserved. That he was a Lannister. That he was blond. That he was brave and intelligent. They said we should not speak more openly of it until you had visited because gossip might sour relations between our families."

"And so you assumed it was Jaime you were to wed."

Lucia shrugged. "He has not yet taken a wife."

"And he is brave," Tyrion agreed. "Blond as we all are, although intelligent may be giving him too much credit. And he is so very tall and handsome. I understand why you would prefer him."

Lucia shook her head. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to behave so badly."

Tyrion perched himself on the edge of the bed. "Badly?" he said with a wry smile. "I've done far worse things than that before most breakfasts. If you're going to be bad, you'll have to work a lot harder at it."

"I did not intend to be bad," Lucia protested, flustered. She saw him smile and felt heat rise in her cheeks.

"So," Tryion said, "you are so sorry that you need to take a blade to your wrists? I have been far more insulted and humiliated in my life than by your hasty retreat to your chambers. Please, do not harm yourself on my account. I'm willing to pretend you were so overcome with joy that you wouldn't be marrying Jaime – who snores something dreadful, so I've heard – that you had to come and have a sit down in private."

Tyrion was like no one she had ever met before. His casual nature threw her off guard. So she sat silently, unsure what to say or do.

"I am not worthy of any nobleman," she said at last. "I should have known that my brothers had malice in their hearts. They mock you, my Lord, just as they taunted me."

Outside a crow called. 

Tyrion tipped his head. "Yes, the denser of your brothers, Sven, began to say something about you being damaged goods."

"I am pure," Lucia said fiercely and was surprised to see her ire bring a wide smile to Tyrion’s face. "No man has ever touched me. Nor probably ever will."

Tyrion rested his chin on one hand. "Is that a threat or a prophecy?"

Lucia stood and moved past him, closing the door. He was her intended and had a right to see, but she would not expose herself to anyone just walking past.

Tyrion watched her with undisguised interest. She shrugged off the itchy shawl she always wore and threw it to the ground. His eyes were drawn to the marks upon her flesh – how could they not be? He made to protest when she tugged at the sleeves of her gown, but she did not stop. He should see how damaged the goods were. 

She stood before him, naked to the waist, letting him take in the full measure of her body.

"What happened?" Tyrion asked softly. She could not meet his eyes, her gaze fixed on the wall above her bed.

"After my father died, Jarrett was not quite of age, and so my uncle came to live with us. He was a violent man," Lucia said. "He blamed me for my mother's death and he hated me for being a woman and a burden upon the family. One night he said – he said he would have me. That it was his due."

She bit her lip hard. Tyrion slid down to the floor and walked over to her, reaching up and touching her scars. She knelt so he could properly inspect her shame and he ran his fingers softly over the damaged skin, the ruin that was her breast.

"I didn't want to," Lucia whispered. "But he was my uncle. We had to obey him, all of us. I was in bed and he climbed on top of me. His breath stank and he pinned my hands behind me and I tried, I tried to be quiet and obedient, but he said my whining was putting him off. He told me that I should be honoured that he paid me any attention. He started to hit me and I struggled…somehow the oil lamp…"

Tyrion took her hand. "It's all right," he said.

"No, no it's not," Lucia said and she couldn't stop now, the words spilling desperately out of her mouth in rising hysteria. "I'm not supposed to tell you, it's a secret. We tell everyone that I knocked the lamp over in my sleep, but it's not true and Jarrett took my uncle out hunting the next day and only Jarrett came back and we never talk about it, and Jarrett hates that I made him do that, but there's the scar and so we say that I'm damaged and clumsy, and sometimes – sometimes I think I imagined it and maybe I did just knock the lamp over."

Lucia bent over, exhausted, and wept freely, her breath coming in great choking sobs.. Tyrion put his arms around her and said nothing for a long moment, his ringed fingers smoothing her hair.

At last, he busied himself with her dress, pulling it back up around her shoulders. 

"Lucia," he said. "Come, sit."

They moved to the bed and only then did Lucia fully comprehend how inappropriate his presence here was. She found she didn't care. If he had not come to her room she would be dead or at least dying now.

"You should live," Tyrion said. "Your uncle is dead, your brothers care little for you. Who would mourn you?"

Lucia shrugged helplessly.

"Live and be happy. Be successful in ways your brothers can never dream of." Tyrion laid one hand on her knee. "Marry me, and I will teach you how to be a Lannister. Let them hear you roar. And then, after a suitable period, I will tire of you and give you somewhere to live and an allowance, and we need never meet again if that is what you desire."

"Why?" Lucia asked.

"My father wishes me to marry you because he has plans for this land. I agreed to the union to keep him satisfied, always intending it to be as I have thus described. I have no illusions about my appearance."

"My lord -"

He squeezed her knee, silencing her. "You are not what I expected, Lucia, and that is a good thing. Besides, I have a passion for broken things. And you are so very lovely despite this scar, and stronger than you realise. To survive such an injury…" Tyrion eyed her cleavage. "But you will stop wearing that disgusting shawl. A well cut dress will hide most of the scar and I shall give you a pendant that sits at your throat and draws the eye to it rather than the imperfection. What remains in view you will wear with pride, a show of your survival."

Lucia nodded, caught up in his plans. "Yes, my lord."

"And stop being so demure. It's not attractive."

There was a knock on the door. "Lucia? It's Cersei."

"Come in," Tyrion called and Cersei entered, eyes narrowing at the sight of him sitting alongside the red-eyed Lucia, on the bed of all places. She quickly recovered however, and gave a regal smile.

"Lucia, I'm afraid your brother Jarrett has had some kind of attack. Sven has gone to fetch a healer. It seems there may have been coriander in the mulled wine we were drinking in celebration. Your staff really should know better."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Yes, they should. I recall how carefully you instructed our kitchen staff about his allergy so that they did not poison Jarrett when he visited to discuss the betrothal."

"Yes," Cersei agreed, her insincerity clear to Lucia, "it is a most unfortunate accident."

This was politics, Lucia thought. Jarrett was not as clever as he believed he was, and had never stood a chance against the Lannisters. She found she felt little concern for her brother. Aside from murdering her uncle – and he'd never let her forget she owed him for that – Jarrett had never shown her any concern, let alone affection. Sven, even less.

"It has happened before," Lucia said. "It will not prove fatal."

Cersei bowed her head. "That is comforting to hear. However I feel we are intruding on your privacy during this trying time and so I would like to leave a day earlier than planned – at first light tomorrow."

"First light? What about breakfast?" Tyrion grumbled.

"I'll have the staff make you a cold plate to take on the coach," Cersei said through gritted teeth.

"The incompetent staff who can't handle the spices?" Tryion said.

Cersei ignored him. It was as if he were no longer in the room. Lucia admired that greatly.

"Lucia, given the circumstances, will you be coming with us or staying behind?" Cersei asked. "It may be that the betrothal should be reconsidered..."

Lucia looked to Tryion who spread his hands. It was her choice, the first choice she'd had about anything for a very long time.

Lucia lifted her chin. "I will be leaving with you," she said. "My place is no longer here."

Cersei nodded approvingly. "Very well. I will leave you to pack your belongings."

Lucia watched Cersei exit the room, skirts brushing the floor, and smiled. Tryion and Cersei could teach her everything she needed to know in order to grow and flourish and to ensure she was safe and respected – and how to punish those who dared hurt her.

She would never be humiliated again.

**Author's Note:**

> In the interests of full disclosure, some elements of Lucia's backstory were inspired by a similar event described in the novel 'The Captive Soul' by Josepha Sherman.


End file.
